Happiness Is Clean Boots
by iluvahsoka2029
Summary: Aragorn was supposed to have arrived a week ago, and Elrond is getting worried. But what else is new? One shot.


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**A/N Hey all! This one is a slightly long one shot. I sort of attempted at humor this time, so if you thought it funny, please tell me! (I'm not very good at humor, so I'm rather uncertain about that aspect of this fic) Please, enjoy!**

**Summary: Aragorn was supposed to have arrived a week ago, and Elrond is getting worried. But what else is new? **

**Rating: K+ **

**DISCLAIMER: J.R.R. TOLKIEN OWNS LORD OF THE RINGS. THE SONG IS BY ENYA.**

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.:OoOoO Happiness is Clean Boots OoOoO:.

_Aragorn son of Arathorn, Estel Elrondion, Heir of Isildur, and Ranger of the North was sleeping soundly on his bedroll when he was abruptly awoken._

_The man cautiously sat up, wondering what had woken him up from his deep sleep. Hearing nothing, he relaxed momentarily, and got up to stoke the dwindling fire. It was only an hour or so before dawn so he simply decided to get a head start on the day and, yawning all the while, began packing his bedroll away. Quickly eating a cold breakfast of old, crumbly lembas and some tough dried meat, he moved to put out the fire. _

_Suddenly the Ranger felt eyes watching his back, and he stilled his movements. A low feral growl sounded from behind him, and he slowly turned around, sword in hand. A large warg emerged from the surrounding brush, and snarled at the Ranger. (The warg did not look terribly hungry, for which the Ranger was thankful.) Aragorn warily backed away, and narrowly missed walking into the fire. _

_Warg and man slowly circled eachother, and Aragorn soon began to tire of this game. Suddenly the warg lunged for the man and Estel just managed to dodge out of harm's way. Repeatedly after that, the warg lunged and the man dodged. This went on for several minutes, and Aragorn was slowly tiring. Glancing at a inviting looking tree from the corner of his eye, Estel made his move swiftly. Thrusting his sword at the warg, and moving out of range of those terrible claws and teeth, he quickly made his way to the tree, (A maple, actually.) and shinnied his way into it's leafy boughs. With a small sigh of relief, Aragorn nimbly moved up into the higher branches, warily watching the warg that was growling and pacing at the foot of the tree. So absorbed was he in watching the prowling animal, that he did not notice the rotted branch he unknowingly put all of his weight on._

_Snaap! Crack! Crash!_

_The Ranger plunged from the tree and hurtled towards the ground, and the waiting warg._

_Aragorn felt his arm break with a sickening snap as he landed on the hard forest floor. Fighting the blackness rushing towards him, he got to his feet with and effort and faced the warg. With a sudden burst of inspiration, the Ranger dove for the fire, (which was just barely burning and sputtered in the wind like a dying animal) and grabbed a stick of burning wood and swung it in the direction of the warg. The large animal growled in the back of it's throat, and jumped away from the flaming weapon. Deciding that _this_ one was not worth getting burnt to a crisp, the warg growled once more at Aragorn for good measure, and then took off into the woods. To say that the man was relieved was an understatement._

* * *

Shaking all thoughts of his pleasant incident with the warg from his mind, Aragorn looked up as a low rumble of thunder sounded in the heavens.

A very fat raindrop felt the urge to land on the mans nose.

"Ai, well, it is better than snow I suppose."

Soon Estel was trudging through mud practically knee deep as the skies emptied and poured out rain with gusto. The man clutched his broken arm to his chest and tried in vain to pull his tattered cloak closer around himself. The throbbing in his arm was becoming rather hard to ignore, and the pulsating pain soon spread to his head. The Ranger stumbled on a protruding root and fell to the unforgiving ground, shivering. He lay there for a moment, but soon was struggling to stand up once again. He wearily leaned against a convenient tree and closed his eyes, resting his body momentarily and regaining his breath. He remained this way for several minutes. Suddenly the man pushed himself away from the obliging tree, and stumbled on his way, this time his eyes bright with steely determination.

* * *

Aragorn nearly slipped and steadied himself on the solid stone his hand found. The Bruinen roared and raged beneath the bridge, and lightning clashed above head. Aragorn wearily lifted his head and gazed through the torrential rain in the direction where Rivendell lay, a mere 2 miles away.

_So close, yet so far..._

He walked on.

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_Long, long journey_

_Through the darkness,_

_Long, long way to go;_

_But what are miles_

_Across the ocean_

_To the heart that's coming home?_

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* * *

A tall, raven haired elf walked the floor, his wine colored robe fluttering behind him as he walked.

Elrond paced, hands clasped behind his back and a unreadable look firmly stamped on his face.

Another elf also sat in the room, his long legs propped on a ottoman, reading a fat book.

The golden haired elf stirred in his chair and shifted quietly.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes, and set his book down. He twisted around in the chair in which he sat in front of the fire. He draped his arm over the back of the chair and gazed at Elrond as the Peredhil ceaselessly paced the floor of the Hall of Fire. As he had been doing for the past two and a half hours.

"Elrond, will you quit that. You're wearing the rug thin."

Elrond stopped abruptly, and his shoulders sagged. Glorfindel untangled himself from the chair and made his way over to the elf's side.

"Elrond, will you not take your own advise? You told Elladan and Elrohir to go to bed and not worry. You should do the same. Estel will eventually show up, you said so yourself. Come, Elrond, you need to rest." Glorfindel firmly grasped Elrond's shoulder and started to steer him toward the door, but was pulled up short as the lord of Rivendell refused to budge.

"Elrond, please. Worrying will not do you any good. Estel will come." Glorfindel gently laid his hands on Elrond's shoulders, and looked at the bowed head. The Peredhil raised his head and looked into his friends caring eyes, his own eyes shimmering with tears. Glorfindel gently lead Elrond towards the chair he previously had occupied. The elf lord collapsed in the chair practically sobbing, and the golden haired warrior pulled a chair up next the his lord's. Elrond's face was buried in his hands and his body shook with silent sobs as Glorfindel gently rubbed soothing circles on his back. When the tears dissipated, the tall warrior leaned back in his chair and studied Elrond. The said elf had also leaned back and his eyes were closed. Both were silent, apart from an occasional sniff from the Peredhil.

"Thank you mellon nin." Elrond opened his eyes and looked at Glorfindel. The golden haired warrior merely smiled.

"Ai! Indeed, I dare not thing about what would happen to you if I were not here."

Elrond smiled back and closed his eyes again, his thoughts once again turning to his youngest son. Estel had promised his family that he would return to Rivendell for the spring festival held by the elves, and the said festival was a day away; and Estel should have arrived nearly a week ago. Elrond sighed and once again prayed to the Valar to keep his son safe. Glorfindel suddenly spoke up.

"Elrond, how many times must I repeat this? He _will_ come. He is a grown man."

"He is but a child still."

"In elvish standards perhaps, but not in human standards."

"He is only twenty-two! Glorfindel, you must agree that he is only a child!"

"Elrond, that is irrelevant! He is an adult, a grown man, and he knows how to take care of himself. You cannot mother him forever." The last words were spoken softly and Elrond felt tears collecting in his eyes once again.

"I know mellon nîn. It pains me, but I know." As the elf lord heard his voice crack at his words Glorfindel laid a comforting hand on Elrond's shoulder, and the two sat in silence. A quiet voice broke the silence.

"Ada?"

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_Where the road _

_Runs through the valley,_

_Where the river flows,_

_I will follow every path_

_To the place I know._

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* * *

Aragorn stumbled through the gates of Rivendell, and nearly collapsed in the courtyard. The sky rumbled ominously and a lightning flash followed soon after, lighting the way for the nearly unconscious man. Estel limped into the invitingly warm hallway, and with great effort closed the door against the howling wind. He slumped on the floor of the hallway, and rested on the floor for a minute or two. (The hallway floor never felt so comfortable in his life before.) His arm ached terribly, and his head was pounding. Picking up fhushed voices from the direction of the Hall of Fire, the man struggled to his feet and stumbled down the hall. He successfully made it down the hall without collapsing, and as he swayed slightly on his feet, he leaned on the doorway, and looked into the room, gazing at his Ada and Glorfindel both slumped in chairs near the fire.

"Ada?"

Glorfindel and Elrond whirled around, both exclaiming at once.

"Estel!"

Aragorn smiled lopsidedly as both elves nearly collided with each other in their haste to reach the man first. Elrond won.

"Oh, ion nîn, I was so worried!" Elrond firmly embraced Aragorn, and the Ranger gratefully accepted the warmth and support after his long, wet trek across the countryside. Elrond held his foster son at arms length, and then was shoved aside as Glorfindel hugged Aragorn.

"Ai Glorfindel! Do not squeeze me so hard! I cannot breathe!" Glorfindel immediately lessened the pressure and then he also held the man at arms length, studying him.

The two elves took in the mans matted wet hair, his clammy skin, the dark circles under his eyes, and then most importantly the arm clutched protectively against his chest.

"What is wrong with your arm Estel? Let me see it. Come, sit down." Elrond's healing instincts took over and he led a weakly protesting Aragorn to the now well used chair in front of the fire.

"It is fine Ada! It is merely sore from a little a tumble I took."

"Indeed Estel, then pray tell me how 'a little tumble' broke your arm?" Elrond glanced up at Aragorn as he examined the mans broken arm. The man merely sighed resignedly and sagged, defeated, in his chair. Much to the elf lord's amusement. "At least you set it. Glorfindel, will you get me my healers satchel from my office please?"

Glorfindel obediently went to fetch the bag, shaking his head and softly laughing. Aragorn scowled at the retreating back of the elf before turning his gaze back towards his foster father.

"So." Elrond raised an eyebrow at his son.

"So what?" Aragorn also raised his eyebrow in an astoundingly similar fashion.

"How do you manage it. You never fail. You never fail to come home with some sort of injury. Rather amazing actually. Or maybe I should just call it King's luck."

"Don't drag my heritage into this conversation Ada."

"So. How?"

"A unfortunate combination of trees, wargs, and..." Here, the man sighed resignedly.

"King's luck."

Estel gave his chuckling father a flat look, but the elf could see the man's mouth twitching in restrained mirth.

"Ai, Estel! But I am glad you are safe. Oh, here is Glorfindel."

The said elf softly walked into the room, and silently handed the Peredhil his satchel. Elrond had meanwhile pulled out a wooden splint and bandages and had begun wrapping up Aragorn's broken arm.

"Well, ion nin, what have you to say, hmm?"

"Nothing Ada, absolutely nothing. At least, nothing really worth mentioning."

"The truth, Estel. Now."

"Can we talk about this tomorrow Ada? I'm tired."

Elrond tied up the last knot on the bandages, and gave Aragorn a unreadable look. The Ranger gave his best imitation of puppy dog eyes. Elrond raised an eyebrow, and then rolled his eyes.

"Very well, tomorrow then. Glorfindel, do you care to help me take our young ranger to his room?"

Aragorn started to rise from his chair, protesting indignantly.

"I have walked almost 30 miles, I believe I can walk to my room!"

"Try it then, ion nîn."

Aragorn had simply argued with his father because it was the thing to do. He argued and complained every time he was injured. It was tradition. He knew that he couldn't get to his room without collapsing. But his ada needn't know that. He stood. Or, at least, tried to that is.

Elrond swiftly caught Aragorn as the mans vision swam and his head started up it's stubborn throbbing with gusto. The ranger clung to his father's robes tightly until the lightheadedness passed, and the hammering in his head was more bearable. He blinked wearily at his Ada, and smiled lopsidedly.

"I think I'm ready for bed Ada."

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_Long, long journey_

_Through the darkness,_

_Long, long way to go;_

_But what are miles _

_Across the ocean _

_To the heart that's coming home?_

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* * *

Aragorn stirred under his blankets, and scrunched his eyes closed tighter against the glaring morning light that made it's wily way into his eyes. He rolled over onto his side, but almost immediately regretted the unfortunate action.

The Ranger moaned as pressure was applied on his broken arm, and inwardly cursed the coursing pain that shot through his arm. He momentarily clutched his injured limb to his chest, much like he had the evening before, and then sighed. He blearily opened his eyes, and blinked several times, squinting in the sunlight.

He laid in his bed, contemplating for a few moments before stirring himself. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed, and stood up. Perhaps a little too quickly. All the blood rushed to his head, and he swayed precariously on his feet, his hand frantically searching for a hold. Leaning heavily on his dresser, the Ranger panted and waited for the lightheadedness to pass. He warily let go of his dresser, and stood on his own, pleased when the action did not induce any further discomfort. Moving slowly, the man put leggings and a tunic on. Pausing when he came to his boots, he sighed happily.

His boots were clean.

Aragorn almost chuckled at his own thought. But clean boots were what he had been dreaming about for almost the past five months. Honestly, for all his Ranger qualities, he hated dirty, worn boots. They stank, they leaked, and by the time he was through with them, they hardly even looked like boots. That's partly why he loved coming home. He always walked away with a new cloak, new arrows, new clothing, and most importantly, clean boots.

He yanked on his shiny, clean boots, and gazed at them for a moment, fully knowing that they would not look as nice as this in a little while.

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_Long, long journey_

_Out of nowhere,_

_Long, long way to go;_

_But what are sighs_

_And what is sadness_

_To the heart that's coming home?_

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He finally made his way down to the dining hall and joined Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrond, and the twins for breakfast.

"Estel!"

A whirlwind of blue and maroon robes nearly smashed into the man, but the Ranger neatly sidestepped them and the twins cannonballed into Glorfindel instead.

"Elladan! Elrohir! Get off of Glorfindel and address your brother like civilized elves."

Glorfindel huffed as Elladan sheepishly helped him up off the floor. Aragorn was silently laughing behind his hand, and tried to school his features when Elrond raised and eyebrow at him, but failed miserably.

"We're sorry Estel. But are you all right? What happened to your arm?" Elrohir hastily apologized, but then quickly changed the subject and began examining Aragorn's arm.

The Ranger rolled his eyes, and then shoved the twins away from himself and took his seat at the table between Elrond and Glorfindel.

"Nothing really happened, Elrohir. I just... took a little tumble."

The twins exchanged identical not-fooled-for-a-second glances, thinking the exact same thought as the other.

_"A little tumble" indeed! He looks like he was run over by a troll! We'll get the story out of him before midday._

Elladan and Elrohir both grinned inwardly at the thought, but didn't let any emotion show on their faces, merely letting out a unconcerned "You don't say? Pass the salad please." while sitting down and calmly starting their breakfast. Silently laughing at the despair written all over their foster brothers face.

Aragorn sighed resignedly and burrowed his head in his arms, dreading the "brotherly discussion" that was sure to come after breakfast between himself and his brothers.

Maybe clean boots _weren't_ worth all the hassle.

**- - - **Finis **- - -**

Well, there it is! I hope you liked it! The song was by Enya, "Long Long Journey" Please Review!


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